Minutes to Midnight
by SeaThreePeeO
Summary: Written as part of the fic challange by Connie Nervegas.  Have the courage to live. Anyone can die. One of their own lies under the earth.  But will they get to him in time? *UPDATED*
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or associated characters. They remain in part the property of Mirage Studios and Nickelodeon (Viacom). I make no financial gain from this fiction.

_A/N This is written as part of the Fic Challenge by Connie Nervegas, over at Stealthy Stories. I apologise for the short chapter length, this is something I hope to address in the subsequent chapters. As ever, please review and let me know what you think and above all, enjoy!_

**Minutes to Midnight**

"Have the courage to live. Anyone can die." ~ Robert Cody

Darkness. It started with darkness and silence. Silence punctuated only by the sound of shuddering breath. Movement was painfully stiff, muscle screamed as he tried to sit up but something solid prevented him. Fumbling blindly he tried to paint a picture of his surroundings with his hands, his fingertips brushed against the rough wood imprisoning him. _A box? No a wooden casket!_

_How long had he been unconscious? How much air did he have left? Minutes? Seconds? _His brow furrowed as he tried to cut through the thick fog enveloping his mind. The past played back to him in fits and starts, flashes of fleeting moments. The moment of his capture flickered before him before the image faded and died, only to be replaced by the next. Visions of torture, of tight bindings and endless questions flooded his mind until he was stood once again in the cold misty acres of a New York cemetery.

Headstones scratched warped shadows into the moonlit sky, reaching relentlessly towards the heavens. A chilling breeze swept across the ground swirling and churning the mist about his feet as he stared into the yawning hole before him. He didn't remember shivering against the cold, in fact he didn't remember feeling anything, just raw emptiness.

"Take a good look around you." the voice came hot and thick against the bare skin of his neck. "You won't be seeing anything again anytime soon."

He didn't hear much more after that. A brilliant white pain exploded through his head before his world was swallowed into the boiling swells of darkness.

_Buried? Alive? _Placing the palms of his hands against the lid he tested for weakness. The wood complained bitterly but could not coaxed to move more then a few centimetres. _There had to be at least six feet of compacted earth against the casket lid. Even if he did break through the lid, he would be sure to drown in the cloying dirt before being able to claw himself to freedom_. His hand knocked against a small object laid upon his chest. Grasping it tightly he rain his fingers over the smooth hardness before finding a small crack that ran along most of it's length, separating it into two interlocking sections. _A cell phone? _Scraping his fingernails against the top section he attempted to pry it open. An unnatural light flooded the casket, bathing him in an eerie glow it banished the darkness to the furthest corners where it bubbled furiously. He stole a glace at the time in the right hand corner of the display. _Minutes to midnight. _


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: sorry for the delay in updating this fiction. I have found it incredibly hard to get down on paper so to speak. Anyway, I enjoy the challenge and I hope you enjoy this chapter. I apologise for it's short length, but as ever I would be most grateful if you could review.**

The stale scent of damp decaying earth filled his nostrils. A small groan escaped into the darkness as the dull pain in the back of his head came flooding back with the memories. He bit his lip as he lightly brushed the pad of his thumb over the cell phone keys. It trembled has he hesitated, to all intents and purposes this looked like a life line, tossed to him in his final moments of drowning. _Or was it just another form of torture, another stab of cruelty before his existence was snuffed out_. _He had no way of knowing if the phone would work or if indeed it would have enough minutes to be of any use to him. Would it be enough to hear his brother's voices one last time, or would it be enough to save him?_

* * *

Michelangelo threw himself heavily onto the old battered couch, he lay there for a few moments staring blankly towards the brick ceiling before sitting up again. Sighing softly he snatched up the remote control and began to idly change channels on the television set. _He wasn't really watching anything, in fact he really didn't want to watch anything, he just had to do something to drown out the constant sounds of argument that seemed to follow his older brothers around like a lost puppy_. The arguments had been increasing in frequency and violence ever since his brother had gone missing over three weeks ago.

Leonardo walked into the kitchen, the argument still hot on his heels as he began to fill a small tea kettle with water.

"I'm just saying. We **could** be doing more."

"Raph," Leonardo levelled, placing the kettle on the stove and lighting the gas, "We're doing all we can. We'll be no good to anyone if we run ourselves ragged."

"It's been three weeks already"

"I know." Leonardo said quietly

"Fuck sake!" Raphael slammed his fist down hard against the work surface causing the stacked crockery to rattle. "He could be seriously hurt somewhere. Or _dead_!"

Leonardo potently ignored his brother has he removed the kettle from the stove and started to make some tea.

* * *

The aching cold seeped through his skin freezing his blood, squeezing his bones. He dialled for the fourth time in as many seconds, once his panic numbed fingers had eventually obeyed, he had hung up twice before the call was even connected. This time he strained to listen.

The payphone in the corner shuddered into the life, rasping for attention. Michelangelo picked up the receiver, juggling it in his hands for a few seconds before he rested it in the crook of his neck. "Yep?" He murmured whilst he continued to absentmindedly flick through the channels.

A temporary wave a relief flooded through Donatello as his younger brother's voice filtered through the earpiece. Blinking hard as tears began to prick at the corners of his eyes, he opened his mouth only for the dry words to stick in his throat.

"Donnie? Donnie is that you bro?" Michelangelo gestured wildly at his brothers, beckoning them to join him at the phone.

"Mikey, it's me." Finally his voice came, thin and weak as he fought to keep it steady.

"Don!" Leonardo's voice bled through the creaking darkness. "Don are you okay? Are you hurt? You're okay?"

"I'm. I'm fine."

"Where are you, Don? Tell us where you are, just tell us and we'll come and get you."

A slight sliver of hope fluttered in Donatello's chest before the harsh realisation smothered it. He wasn't a hundred percent sure he knew where he was.

"I. I, I don't know." His voice felt as if it would crack and shatter into a thousand pieces as doubt began to claw itself deep within the edges of his mind.

"You, you don't know?" The concern in Leonardo's voice was so tangible he could almost reach out and touch it.

"Well, I know I am underground."

"Underground?"

"Underground, like the subway?" Michelangelo interrupted. "You're in the subway, right?"

"No," Donatello inhaled sharply, "Buried under the ground. Interred." He listened to the stunned silence as it hung in the air. "In a casket, in a cemetery somewhere in New York City."

" Buried. A cemetery?" Leonardo repeated not sure he had heard his brother right.

"Where? What cemetery?" Raphael's voice burst through.

"I'm not sure." He voice quavered as the absurdity of the situation stabbed it's way through his thoughts.

"Can you remember anything, street signs, landmarks that sort of thing." Leonardo motioned for a pen and piece of paper. "Think Donnie, try!"

Donatello held his breath and the closed his eyes, desperately sorting through the blackened shards of severed memory.

"I remember…"

_He remembered that fateful night as clearly as if it were day. He had gone to the municipal dump to sort through the piled mounds of trash in hopes of finding a treasure or maybe two. Ones man's trash is another man's treasure It wasn't something he had done in a long while. Since his family had meet and befriended April and Casey he now had access to a wide range of commercially available electronics. Truth be known, after other events in their lives he had access to electronics and components not commercially available. Still old habits die hard. _

_Some times he just needed to get out, to get away. From the same four walls, from his sensei. From his brothers. To just, to just be himself free from the expectations of others, even if it was for a hour or two._

"Donnie?" The voice broke through the fog snapping him back to reality. Locked in the pressing swells of perverse flickered light. He furrowed his brow.

"I remember railings, tall black spear shaped railings, on top a low red or brownish brick wall."

Leonardo lent the pad of paper against the wall and scribbled furiously. "Railings, low wall. Red or brown." He paused, "anything else? Think."

"I remember," he faltered as he choked back a sob. Agonising images flashed behind his dancing eyelids. Raw stinging memories of being half dragged, half shoved through the grounds of the cemetery. "I remember monuments. A monument, a sphinx and some, some Egyptian style columns."

"Don," Leonardo said softly looking up from his writing, "who did this to you?"

He tried to still his shuddering breath. "It…" There was a soft click followed by a continuous dull tone. Donatello snapped the phone shut, plunging himself back into the boiling darkness. A small tear escaped and trickled coldly across the crest of his cheek.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I apologise for the length of this chapter, I just couldn't seem to get it to stretch any further. I'm semi happy with it, but then I am semi happy with all of my work. As ever please enjoy and please review as I need regular encouragement to help the wheels of inspiration. Thank you**

* * *

"Donnie? Don? Are you there?" A continuous tone peeled out in reply. Leonardo carefully replaced the receiver and turned to face his brothers.

"Well?"

"He's gone." He stated simply.

"Gone? Whadda mean, gone?" Raphael asked flatly.

"Gone, we were cut off."

"Shit!" Raphael spat. "So, what are we going to do? Stand round here discussing things, huh?"

"But, Donnie said he was in a casket under the ground." Michelangelo interrupted. "You don't think he was serious do you?"

"Nah Mikey, he was joking." Raphael rounded on his younger brother. "What the fuck do you think?"

Michelangelo blinked hard as tears began to blur his vision. "I… I didn't…"

"That's right, you didn't think!" Raphael snarled cutting him off mid-sentence.

"Raph," Leonardo's voice was cool and calm, too calm for Raphael's liking, "exactly how is this helping?"

Raphael gritted his teeth and tightened his fists. _Right now he could just smack that self righteous look right off his brother smug arsed face. _

"He's buried under the ground Lee, how long to you think he's got before he runs out of air?" He forced the words through his clenched jaw.

"We don't know exactly where he is, Raph…"

"He said he was in a cemetery, so lets check every God-damned one until we find him!"

"Do you have any idea how many cemeteries there could be in New York City, Raph? How long do you think it would take to search every single one?" _Why was Raphael so determined to waste precious time arguing the point with him? Every second counted couldn't he see that?_

"Sphinx!" Michelangelo blurted out.

"What?" Raphael hissed, glaring at his brother.

"Sphinx!" Michelangelo repeated with more conviction.

"This is stupid," Raphael threw his hands into the air in frustration. _Why wasn't anyone listening to him?_ "Mike we don't have time for…"

Leonardo put a hand up to silence him. "No, wait. Listen Raph. What was that again, Mikey?"

"Sphinx." Michelangelo muttered, his skin flushing hotter. Suddenly he didn't feel all that comfortable being the centre of attention. "There can't be that many Sphinx knocking about in New York cemeteries, can there?" He fiddled with the straps on his wrist hoping he could somehow disappear under the gaze of his brothers. "If we find the Sphinx…."

"Then we'll find Donnie." Leonardo finished, realisation flashing across his face.

* * *

Darkness. It started with darkness and silence. Silence punctuated only by the sound of shuddering breath. Suddenly blinding light burned through his eyelids, blinking he tried to raise his hand to shield eyes. Taught bindings bit sharply into his skin preventing movement.

"Ah, so you're awake" The voice was sickeningly familiar, yet somehow remained beyond his grasp. "I was beginning to wonder if you would ever join us."

"Bishop?" He rasped, the copper tang of dried blood clung thickly to the inside of his mouth.

"And you're supposed to be the smart one." The voice continued to smirk from the shadows.

The light dimmed slightly allowing his surrounding to flood in on him from all angles. The clean stark lines of a laboratory swam into view followed closely by the lingering scent of antiseptic mingled with anaesthetic. Flexing stiffly against the restraints he looked down to find himself strapped tightly against a slab of sorts suspended vertically above the floor. It's slight sway only added to the waves of nausea knotting through his stomach.

"Comfy? No? Good. This is what's going to happen," the voice sliced bluntly through his thoughts, "I'm going to ask you some questions and you're going to give me the answers. Give me the correct answers and I won't hurt you. Much."

A trapdoor beneath Donatello hissed open to reveal a dark pool of water.

"You sicken me!" the voice continued, crawling over Donatello's skin. "You're a foul abomination, a mistake of nature. I'm here to correct that mistake, your kind should be allowed to die out like the monsters you truly are." Venom dripped from every word as they oozed through the silence. "How long can you hold your breath?"

"What?"

"Wrong answer." the voice crackled with obvious delight.

Understanding came all too slow, Donatello's heart and stomach leapt into his throat as he plummeted suddenly towards the ebbing abyss. The relentless rattle of chain blocked out by the deafening roar of water as he plunged below the frothing surface. The cold slammed hard against his body forcing the little air he had from his lungs, several agonising minutes elapsed before his eyes started to roll upwards as the world faded into darkness.

His body jerked violently, jolting him from his haunted dreams. Coughing, gasping, he sucked in large mouthfuls of damp stagnant air, his breathing slowed and he was once again in the crushing darkness of the casket. "I am not a monster."


	4. Chapter 4

Bishop leaned back into the car seat and observed the quiet street that eked out before him. The faint glow demonising his features was slowly extinguished as he snapped the laptop closed. The decaying sanity of the sentient mind was a beautiful thing to behold. He should have severed communications sooner. He had allowed him to relay more information then he was truly comfortable with, but what did it matter? After all he had the brains of the operation, how clever could they really be? Still, it wouldn't hurt to speed up the process at little. A twisted smile creased the corners of his eyes.

* * *

Michelangelo eased his way slowly into Donatello's room, he hung in the doorway unable to shake the feeling that he was trespassing somewhere incredibly private. Nothing had changed in there during the weeks of his brother's disappearance, yet the room seemed strangely cold and un-naturally dark. Dead almost, as if someone had stolen the very heart from it. Carefully he lowered himself into the desk chair, nervously chewing his bottom lip as the springs creaked pitifully. _He wasn't entirely sure what he was doing here, but he had to do something. _He watched the grey screen as it flickered to life, the grinding whirr of the computer's fan filling his ears. Moving several piles of paper and a few electronic devices in various states of dismemberment he eventually located the cordless mouse. Soft teardrops left clean vacant spots in the dust, he sniffed, wiping them away with the back of his wrist as he set about clearing a space beside the keyboard. _The only thing he could think of doing was asking Google. _His trebling fingers hovered above the keys as he searched his vacant mind for the right words. _This was stupid, he was stupid. This was Don's department._

A shaft of light sliced it's way into the room and swept across Michelangelo's face. He could feel his older sibling watching him from the doorway. Raphael crossed his arms and lent against the door frame, carefully regarding his brother's illuminated face for any clue to his current mood. _Tearful would be a pretty good guess_. His rage had long since evaporated leaving behind a dark hollow feeling. _He had given up trying to make Leonardo see sense and had left him to scuttle off into the sanctuary of Splinter's room. No doubt to waste more time discussing futile tactics and counter strategies. Why the hell weren't they out there looking for Donatello already? Scouring the streets, asking questions and twisting a few arms to get the answers. Someone, somewhere had to know something. _His thoughts turned to his missing brother, Donatello had always passionately voiced his opinions on the moral implications of 'friendly methods persuasion'. Raphael wasn't well versed in the art of 'friendly' and besides, he preferred decidedly unfriendly methods of persuasion, they got better, faster results. He shook his head and sighed. _As much as it pained him to admit it, and it pained him, Leonardo was right. He didn't know where to start looking either_.

"What you doing?"

"I," Michelangelo flinched involuntary as Raphael gripped the back of the seat and lent in closer, "I was going to search for New York cemeteries containing Sphinx moments."

"That gonna work?" Raphael arched an eye ridge, his gaze remained firmly on the computer screen. Michelangelo shrugged.

Leonardo watched them from the passageway, he sagged under the immense weight that had begun to settle on his shoulders. _He was accustomed to pressure, but this, this felt different. How were they going to find Donatello without Donatello there to help with the more technical aspects of the search?_ The helplessness of the situation didn't sit well with him, in fact it churned furiously in the pit of his stomach. Feeling as if he was missing a vital limb, he hit the call button and pressed his cell phone against his ear.

* * *

He could feel his warm breath beginning to condense on his cold skin. Shifting uncomfortably he attempted the stretch out the cramp starting to knot in the muscles of his lower legs. The scent of damp earth was now so strong he could taste it in the air. _At what point had pins and needles settled into his extremities? _He fruitlessly pumped and flexed his hands for relief. He could only hope that the numbing blackness of hypothermia would take over long before the air ran out. Years of his own studies had shown that many species of turtle could hold their breath for several hours, some species of sea turtle even hibernating under water for several months. However Splinter had expressly forbidden any forms of self experimentation in the bath tub, or any on his brothers. He couldn't stop the dry chuckle escape and it bubbled at the back of his throat. _Ironically, it looked like he was going to find out exactly how long he could hold his breath._

When the days of captivity had begun to merge into weeks Donatello had retreated in on himself, locking away the last precious silver threads of sanity. He tightly clung to them for security, but Bishop always had ways of finding them and relinquishing them from his grasp.

"Wrong!" The voice bellowed.

The anguished echoes of his own scream rang throughout the laboratory as the leather restraints ate into his quivering flesh. The pain, as ligament was torn from bone and tendon from muscle, pushed him to the very brink of mental collapse before ebbing away with the thick fresh trickle of blood.

"You don't seem to be grasping the concept!" The voice sounded frustrated as if the exasperation of explaining complicated matters to a petulant child was beginning to take it's toll. "I'm going to give you one … last … chance. You are a soulless beast, and animal, devoid of all meaning and purpose. Again, what are you?"

Donatello glared defiantly through narrowed eyes at his own reflection in the mirrored glass. "I. Am. A. Person." He forced out. "A sentient living being."

"Such a disappointment. You are again, wrong."

"No. No. No." Donatello panted as the binds began to tighten once more.

A buzzing vibration coursed through the casket, cutting Donatello from his vision. Frantically scrabbling in the darkness Donatello snatched up the cell phone and wrenched it open.

"Leo?" He croaked.

"Sorry to disappoint you." The voice slid into the casket making Donatello's nerves bristle. He growled lowly, he wasn't one to advocate violence or the pursuit of mindless revenge but in Bishop's case he was willing to make an exception. "It's been hours since your last communication with your so called 'brothers'."

_Had it really been hours? He could no longer be sure of anything, the passing of time seemed non existent in the darkness._ Bishop continued.

"And yet your 'brothers' have not come to your rescue."

"They will!" The whimper in his voice surprised Donatello. How could he be so certain that they would be able to find them in time. Bishop didn't like to make things easy and soon he would tire of this game. Losing Bishop's interest was a dangerous thing.

"Will they? You seem so sure. I expect, as you speak, they're fighting amongst themselves like the animals they truly are. They have no concern or thought for futile struggle for existence…"

Donatello snapped the phone shut, swallowing back the rising bile that was burning in his chest. "They will!" The silence didn't respond.

* * *

**A/N I'm still not sure if I am writing Bishop correctly, but I have been watching episodes invovling him on Youtube. Not a very nice chapter, but I think I'm happy with it. Thank you for reading.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for the delay in updating this story, but I have had a rough time healthwise. I hope you all understand. Not entirely sure if I am happy with this chapter. Still not feeling 100% Anyway, thank you for your patience and for taking the time to read. Please review. Enjoy!**

A heavy sigh escaped Leonardo's lips as the call finally connected and a familiar voice began to flood the line.

"April! Sorry? Yes, I'm well aware of what time it is."

April rolled over, opened her eyes and blinked blearily at the harsh neon figures on her bedside alarm. It took several moments before she could eventually focus on the time. She groaned inwardly. _She had to be up in a matter of hours. Sleep didn't come easily, not since Donatello's disappearance. Soon after, the nightmares had started. Thick and choking._

"April," Leonardo breathed softly, cutting through April's sleep hazed thoughts. "We've found Donnie."

April sprung forward, sitting upright she clutched the covers tightly to her chest.

"You've found him! Is he okay? Can, can I speak to him?"

"He's not here but he's… close." Leonardo winced as the words left his mouth. _In reality he had no idea exactly where Donatello was, he just hoped it was somewhere nearby and that they would be able to reach him in time._

'I don't understand, he's not with you?' April pinched the bridge of her nose attempting to ward off the headache that was now beginning the beat steadily behind her eyes.

"Listen, we need your help. Can you get the van and meet us, oh and can you bring a few shovels?

"Shovels?" April drew her knees towards her and hugged them tightly with her free arm. "There's something you're not telling me Leo. What are you not telling me?"

"You know where to meet us. And April, please hurry."

Leonard snapped the phone shut. He hated have to deceive those closest to him, but he really needed April to focus on the task at hand and not get bogged down with the details. Plus he couldn't take the risk that her phone line wasn't being tapped in some way. For now, things would have to remain as vague as possible, until he was sure of what he really knew. Which right now, wasn't much.

April listened to the peel of the dial tone for several seconds. _Had he just hung up on her? _Irritation was quickly replaced with dull dread as she went over the conversation in her mind. _Van, shovels. Shovels? _Slipping out of bed and stuffing her feet into a pair of sneakers, she ran her hand along the wall whilst she fumbled for the light switch. Reaching the kitchen counter she shakily snatched up the van keys and hastily scribbled a note for Casey to find, should she not return before morning. _No time to get dressed, she'll simply have throw a coat over her pyjamas. Shovels? She was sure she had some shovels out the back of the shop. She would have to dig through the piles of discarded stock to find them. She'd asked Casey to take that lot to the dump weeks ago. Typical._

* * *

Gradually his eyelids fluttered open. The stark brightness of the over head lights did nothing to alleviate the pounding deep within his head. His brow furrowed as he tried to reclaim the shattered events that had lead to this moment. Slowly the stark lines of his sterile prison swam into view. Only this time, something was different. The constricting pressure of biting bonds was now strangely absent. Scanning the room quickly, Donatello cautiously raised himself up on his elbows. _Surely this was some sort of mistake. Or a trap, a dangling carrot of sorts, another bid to wound his damaged psyche. Or maybe, just maybe they weren't expecting him to come round from the anaesthesia as quickly as they did. However, it wasn't like Bishop to be this… sloppy. Either way the opportunity for escape was too great to be missed._

Silently Donatello slid down from the table. His limbs complained bitterly as he tried to force them to follow orders. Rubber limbed he painfully made his way over to the door on the far side of the room. Pressing his body against the cool metal his listened intently for any sounds emulating from the other side. Far beyond the whir and buzz of several archaic pieces of equipment, there was only silence. Donatello bit down on his lip as he anxiously tried the handle, nervously chewing as he coaxed the door from it's steel surround. Each minute sound seemed strangely magnified against the creaking emptiness.

Darkness.

Cool, welcoming darkness beckoned and spread out before him as he groped his way through the gloom. His eyes were beginning to adjust now, he was just able to make out several large shapes pressed menacingly against the walls. A shimmering sliver of light spilt out from under a door as crept across the floor towards him. Donatello was certain that the hammering of his heart would give his position away. He didn't have long to wait, in a heartbeat the room was flooded with white light. Donatello attempted to shield his eyes as a wave of intense pain exploded through his head, blanking out his vision.

"Oh, so disappointing.' Bishops voice hissed hotly against the back of Donatello's neck. "You're trying to escape. I would have expected more. Don't you like it here? No? Just as I thought we were getting to know each other.'

Donatello closed his eyes as sagged slightly. He could almost feel the sarcasm and glee oozing from Bishop's body, like sweat.

"Tell me," Bishop continued, "tell me. Exactly how far were you planning on getting? Hmm? No answer? I thought you were the one with all the answers. TELL ME!"

Donatello winced as his felt Bishop's heavy breath on his face. Opening his eyes he started into the contorted features of the face before him. This seemed to please Bishop as a smirk slowly slipped across his thin lips.

"You wouldn't have got very far at all." Bishop's voice was now barely a whisper. "Because of this!" He produced a small glass vile of clear liquid from the folds of his jacket. "This! This perfect serum of my own ingenious creation."

"What is it?" Donatello's voice sounded oddly strained.

Bishop's eyes glinted wildly, betraying his excitement. He lightly caressed vile. "It de-molecularises mutant strains of DNA, quite clever really and I took the liberty of injecting some of it into your blood stream."

Donatello breathing quickened. He stared blankly as Bishop dissolved into fits of laughter.

"Can you feel it, can you? Feel it slowly unravelling your DNA, liquefying your cells as we speak?"

The edges of Donatello's vision began to darken. Breathing was now becoming strangely difficult. The room began to swirl and pitch as the yawning darkness rose up to meet him once again. The cold floor stung his skin as Bishop's cackle faded into the distance.


End file.
